The Replacements: A CMWarehouse 13 Crossover
by md102
Summary: After a series of rapes and murders in Westchester county, the BAU and Warehouse 13 agents combine forces to stop the unsub and artifact. Main characters are HG Wells, Emily Prentiss, and Myka Bering, but all characters will be a part of this story. However, HG Wells' background is altered for the purposes of my story.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and I decided to do a crossover with Warehouse 13 and Criminal Minds. The CM characters are all somewhat the same (with a little more romance and history). However, I changed Well's background a bit just for my story, as well as her relationship with Myka. She is a modern-day English woman without the Christina backstory (I just wasn't sure how to do justice to that painful storyline). However, she does have a different sort of past that I want to develop. If you are a warehouse 13 purist or are offended by these changes, I'm really sorry.**

SSA Emily Prentiss groaned as her phone vibrated on the bedside table. With her eyes still closed, she blindly reached out, knocking over a small lamp in the process and squinted at the caller id. She groaned more audibly this time out of frustration rather than surprise. Only one person would be calling her at 4:30 in the morning.

_"_JJ, please tell me you're only calling to make sure I made it home alright." She heard a chuckle on the other end.

"Well I had my doubts after the fourth drink, but sadly a new case just came in. It's pretty bad, and kind of...weird."

"What do you mean by weird?"

"You'll see when you come in. And hopefully you've sobered up enough to actually make it in! I can pick you up if you need me to."

"No, I'm fine. I've slept most of it off."

"Slept it off? Are you telling me you _didn't _bring the cute guy from the bar home?" Emily could practically hear JJ grinning through the phone.

"JJ, he was a male nurse. He spent most of the night telling me how much his patients needed him to 'end their pain.' I swear if we get a case at MedStar hospital, we know exactly who to look for."

"Not every person you meet is a serial killer, Emily! And Reid wonders why profilers never get laid."

Emily sighed. "I'm just putting on clothes and I'll be on my way."

Emily hung up and stumbled out of bed. She quickly changed into her FBI regulation trouser suit and headed to the bathroom to fix her hair. She had a bit of a headache coming on but was thankfully no longer feeling even slightly tipsy, despite the copious amounts of alcohol she, JJ, and Garcia had consumed that evening. It figures that they would catch a case on the first ladies night they had had in weeks.

She splashed water on her face, brushed her hair, and carefully readjusted her makeup. While she was not overly concerned with her appearance, Emily knew that Hotch was a stickler for personal grooming and upholding the FBI reputation.

As she was walking out the door, her phone rang again. She glanced at the caller ID and immediately felt butterflies. She composed herself and answered the phone.

"Hey Morgan, you need a ride?" The two agents didn't live particularly close, but had taken to having morning coffees and carpooling to work after Morgan's car had broken down a month ago.

Emily heard a laugh at the other end. "You know me so well, Princess. I gotta get the 'stang fixed one of these days."

"Well, no coffee places are open this early, so you better have a mug ready for me."

"Do you even have to tell me that?"

Emily hung up and headed out the door, a smile still on her face. Morgan always managed to make her smile no matter what mood she was in.

While driving, she pondered on her changing relationship with Morgan. They had always been close friends––best friends, in fact––but they had spent so much time together lately that she felt some sort of shift that made her nervous and excited at the same time. Perhaps the big surprise was that despite all the time they spent together, she never got tired of his company, and she suspected he felt the same. She had even begun accompanying him to the local community centers where he volunteered with at-risk teens. She was honored that he had asked her, knowing that this was a very private part of his life. He had chosen to share this with her, presumably because of their similar troubled childhoods. And she surprised herself with how much she enjoyed her weekends there and understandably connected with the girls who faced issues with pregnancy and drugs. And watching Morgan connecting so well with the young men was, if she let herself admit it, a huge turn-on. That, and watching him play basketball shirtless–

Emily shook her head to rid herself of the image of Morgan's perfect physique. Not only was it completely wrong to have those thoughts about a coworker, but they also had a case to solve.

* * *

"Eight victims over the course of a month and a half," said JJ as she uploaded their pictures to the smartboard. "Westchester County, NY. Each woman disappeared in broad daylight for about 3 days. After that, their bodies were found in various dumpsters around Albany. There was evidence of sexual assault and torture." Everyone looked at the various pictures on the smartboard and winced at the mutilated bodies of what were once four young and beautiful women.

"Well, he certainly has a type," Rossi said, closely examining his file. "All the women are in their early 30s, black hair and brown eyes, clearly fit and attractive. Chances are they resemble a woman in the unsub's life."

"They were single too," said Morgan. "Makes them an easier target. I would guess this guy was stalking them and got familiar with their schedules."

"Well, there's another part to this case," said JJ slowly. Emily looked sharply at her. This was certainly a bad case, but so far not weird like JJ had suggested earlier.

"What is it?" asked Hotch with his characteristic frown.

"Well, it appears that the reason we weren't called in earlier is because after the third victim, they found the guy. A man named Michael Stevens, by all account a devoted husband and loving father with a good job at a law firm in Manhattan. But there is no doubt he killed the first three women. His DNA was all over them, including in defensive wounds on the second two women. When found, he was covered in their blood. His family had filed a missing persons report for him because he was unaccounted for during the two weeks in which the murders were committed. But when arrested and questioned, Stevens remembered absolutely nothing of the time period in question, or so he says. In fact, he had some sort of breakdown and ended up in a psych ward."

The team took a minute to digest this information. "But if he was the killer, than are the rest copycat killings?" asked Rossi.

"That's the thing," said JJ. "After they caught Stevens, there was a break of about a week, and then the next three bodies turned up. Those bodies had clear physical evidence that pointed to yet another man named Josh Callahan. But he has the same memory loss story as Stevens. And these next two bodies bare the same physical evidence of another man who hasn't been caught yet."

"Maybe Stevens was the original unsub and these guys are excited fans," suggested Morgan peering down at the photos.

"Apparently, the same kind of...torture...was inflicted on each of these women," said JJ in disgust. "The ME thinks that the MO is too similar between the women for the crimes not to be related."

"So we're looking for an unsub still at large who somehow manipulates these men into torturing and raping women, and is also able to make them forget everything," said Emily incredulously. "I now see what you meant by 'weird.'"

"Did they do a tox screen?" asked Reid.

"Yep," answered JJ. "Negative for both men."

Hotch shook his head in exasperation. "We won't get the answers we need by sitting here. Get your go-bags. Wheels up in 30."


	2. Chapter 2

"Typical," said Myka disapprovingly. Pete and Helena looked up at her guiltily. They had been playing with Pete Sampras' tennis rackets and had somehow dislodged an artifact from a shelf, inexplicably causing it to rain heavily in rows 56 and 57.

"I truly am sorry Myka," began Wells in her cultured English accent, but Myka cut her off.

"Save it, Wells. You really don't take anything seriously. Someone could have gotten hurt!"

"Well, luckily no one did," replied Wells smoothly. "And extreme warehouse tennis is a wonderful way to pass the time. By the way, have I told you that you look absolutely lovely this morning?"

Myka rolled her eyes in exasperation. Wells was an incorrigible flirt with everyone, male or female. "You better figure out a way to fix this before Artie sees it."

"Darling, you really need to relax," said Wells. "And I'm sure I can fix this. Though I will need to change." She comically gestured down at her now soaked clothes. Myka rolled her eyes again.

_"Only HG could somehow still look good completely wet," _thought Myka as she walked away.

She had no doubt Helena would find a way to stop the rain. As irritating as Myka found Helena, she had to admit the woman was a genius. That was part of the reason she had actually approved of her initiation as a warehouse agent. Before being dubbed "Agent Wells," HG had, through pure intellectual curiosity, managed to manipulate a number of artifacts to suit her own needs and inventions. The woman had even invented a time machine for crying out loud! Of course, all her actions drew the attention of the Warehouse and she was a thorn in their side for quite a while. Once they finally caught up with her, her skills and knowledge were deemed too valuable to simply throw away and she was offered a chance to join the Warehouse as a full agent. Such a move wasn't uncommon; after all, that's how Claudia was recruited. And Myka had to admit that her inventing skills and near genius level understanding of physics, chemistry, and biology were astounding. But her cocky attitude, reckless behavior, and inability to take anything seriously annoyed Myka to no end.

Pete glanced at Helena as she stared at Myka's retreating back with a strange expression on her face. "You okay, Wells?"

"Perfect, thank you. We had a rather rowdy game of tennis wouldn't you say? What a shame it ended like this." _With Myka once again convinced that I don't actually deserve to be an agent._

Although she didn't voice her thoughts out loud, Pete, being the intuitive guy that he was, knew exactly what she was thinking. "Myka's hard on everyone," he said quietly. "Most of all herself. Don't worry too much about her. Hell, if she ever stopped busting my balls, then an artifact would be messing with her." Helena gave him an amused and grateful look. Then she sighed. "I suppose I'd better fix this." She gestured at the rain. Pete laughed.

"Gotta admit, HG. You oughta think about joining a wet t-shirt contest. You look pretty hot. Though I don't think Artie or Myks would approve."

Just then, Artie's gruff voice came on the intercom. "Agents to the main office!"

Pete sighed. "And there goes my date with the hot vet tonight. There are some sweats in my locker. Go ahead and change into them. There is no way you can let Artie see you like this." He smirked. HG laughed and worked on fixing the rain.

* * *

As Helena came in Pete's clothes, Myka's breath caught. A t-shirt and sweatpants were not her normal form-fitting attire, to say the least. Clearly such clothes did not suit her in the least...or did they? Myka had to admit that the casual wear was...different and not necessarily in a bad way. But why was she wearing Pete's clothing? That definitely suggested a more intimate friendship, and for some reason, Myka was reacting very strongly against it. "_Relationships in the field are dangerous for everyone," _she reasoned to herself. She made up her mind to speak to Pete about it later.

"Nice of you to join us Wells," said Artie sourly. He, like Myka, had yet to warm to Helena and was still sore about her various escapades before she became an agent. HG, however, ignored his hostility and smiled brightly back before she sat down next to Claudia. Claudia grinned at the raven-haired woman. The two had struck up quite a rapport, and Claudia had begun to see her as quite the mentor. Helena, for her part, admired the young girl's intellect and unsurpassed skill in computers, something she had never quite been able to master.

"So what's the case, Artie?" asked Pete. "Maybe another artifact that can help you get a date with the doctor chick?" Everyone sniggered as Artie shot him a glare.

"You guys are going to Westchester county, NY."

Claudia groaned. "Are you freaking kidding me? I was hoping for Paris or Hawaii. Not some cold town with uptight snobs."

"Sorry to disappoint, Claudia, but Warehouse 13 is not your personal travel agency. You will go where I tell you to go. Anyone have any objections?" Artie looked hard at Claudia, who wisely said nothing.

"Apparently two family men with no history of violence or weird childhood problems went on a killing spree." He showed a number of graphic pictures of young brunette women as Pete and Claudia looked away in disgust. Helena and Myka continued to stare impassively at the screen, both better at hiding their revulsion.

"These women were tortured, raped, and strangled, but the men who undoubtedly did it have no recollection of these events," explained Artie. "This is the work of an artifact. I'm sure of it. I have no idea what though."

"How do we know these women are connected?" asked Myka.

"The ME says that the wounds on the different bodies are way too similar to have been done by different people," said Helena as she read the report. "So there has to be something that is making these men do the exact same thing to these different women."

"And two more bodies were found," said Claudia. "Whatever it is, we better find it fast."

"Oh, and I forgot to mention something else," said Artie, stopping them from leaving. "The FBI sent in a group that specializes in serial killers. The Behavioral Analysis Unit, headed by one Aaron Hotchner."

They all groaned at this piece of news. The FBI was known to be full of arrogant pricks and it was never fun for the Warehouse 13 agents to deal with them.

"Well," said Pete as they all walked out of the warehouse. "I'm glad we got a light case this time. It's not like people's lives depend on us or anything." No one was fooled by Pete's lame attempts at joking.

"I hope we can finish this case quickly," groaned Myka. Helena silently agreed, not wanting to show to the other agents just how much the images had bothered her. She did not relish finding anymore dead and violated women.


	3. Chapter 3

"I just don't get this case," sighed Morgan, tossing the files onto the empty seat next to him. Emily looked up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"We have the guys who no doubt killed these women. But all these killings have the same markers of one killer."

"So it must mean we have a dominant unsub who manipulates these men into acting out his own fantasies but wants to keep his hands clean," finished Emily.

"Yeah, but how does he get these guys to do what he wants? And why don't they have any memory of anything?" Asked Morgan, clearly frustrated. "I mean, even if they are drugged, there aren't any drugs I've heard of that would make men with no predisposition towards violence torture and rape a woman for days."

"Yeah, it is pretty messed up," agreed Emily, wrinkling her nose. "And another thing: with a typical dominant and submissive partnership, the submissive would be an underachiever in all parts of life. These men clearly exhibit alpha-male tendencies. They are both good-looking, have attractive wives, and have the typical alpha-male jobs like lawyers and bankers. Not the type who would take on the role of the submissive."

Morgan leaned back in his chair. "Well, there's nothing we can do right now, so we might has well relax." He gave Emily a crooked smile.

"How Shawna doing?" he asked.

"Shawna?" JJ had just joined them.

"A girl at the place we volunteer," explained Emily. "She...well, she's been having some problems and I'm trying to help her out." Shawna had gotten mixed up in drugs and had fallen into an abusive relationship with an older man who fed her drug habit. Emily, having had a breadth of negative teenage experiences, knew how difficult it could be to try and turn your life around and had tried to take Shawna under her wing. Shawna had been resistant and mistrustful at first but had begun to warm up to the pretty FBI agent. Morgan had to admit that Emily connected extremely well with teenagers through her sense of humor and ability to give advice without judging.

"I think its great that you guys spend so much time volunteering," said JJ as she opened a bag of cheetos. "But I don't know how you guys spend so much time together. No offense, but I'd go fucking insane seeing your faces that often."

Morgan laughed and glanced at Prentiss. "Who says we don't go insane?" Emily playfully scowled at him. As usual, she looked impeccable in a simple pant suit with a red blouse. But even something so professional couldn't hide her slim womanly figure. She never went overboard on make up, but did enough to highlight her dark brown eyes that stood out in her pale face. Morgan had always known she was attractive but saw her as a friend and partner. Sure, there were moments when he wondered if there was something there, but he was definitely not stupid enough to ruin their friendship or break up the team by making a move.

Garcia's voice from the computer suddenly got all their attention. "Hello, my lovelies. I have breaking news for you. Apparently the local police found the man responsible for the recent two murders. His name is Sam Martins and like the other guys, he was missing for about the week and was found wandering the streets with absolutely no memory of what happened."

Rossi let out a snort. "Clearly something's going on here that we don't understand. What did he do for a living?"

"He's a stockbroker on Wall street. Apparently he does some self-esteem workshops at a local group home for foster children, and that was where he was last seen before he just disappeared."

"Ok," said Hotch. "Once we get settled in, Prentiss can pay a visit to the group home." He knew that children and teenagers were her unofficial expertise. She nodded in response. "Also, this seems like a big case, Garcia. I think you'd better come in."

"Affirmative, boss. I'll be on the next flight out. Oh, one more thing," said Garcia. "Strauss is here and wants a word with you." Hotch frowned. _What could that witch possibly want?_

_"_Hello, Agent Hotchner." Her stern voice filled the airplane.

"Chief Strauss." Hotch's lips tightened.

"I just wanted to inform you that this case is somewhat...unusual." Only someone with profiling skills would be able to tell that she was not happy about whatever she was going to say.

"A second team will be joining you in this investigation."

Hotch immediately frowned. "Chief, that is highly irregular. Are you suggesting that we are unable to complete this investigation without the help of another BAU team? Let me remind you of our closing rate."

Chief Strauss held up a hand to the webcam. "That is unnecessary, Agent Hotchner. I am fully aware that while your team is occasionally unorthodox, you are fully capable of finding the unsub and bringing him to justice. The team that will be joining you will be a group of secret service agents."

Everyone except for Rossi looked up in surprise. Rossi, however, just looked pensive.

"What possible reason would the secret service have to be interested?" JJ asked.

"That is unfortunately above my paygrade," said Strauss. "I have just been assured that their presence is needed on this investigation and that this order comes from quite high up. You will have to find a way to work with them, because there is certainly nothing I can do about it." With that, Strauss and Garcia both hung up.

There was a moment of silence on the plane until Emily voiced exactly what everyone was thinking.

"What the fuck just happened?"

* * *

Helena opted for the window seat while Myka sat next to her in the aisle. Claudia and Pete sat right behind them and promptly proceeded to fall asleep. Myka, on the other hand, opened the files and poured over them, occasionally taking notes.

"Myka, darling, it might be a better idea for you to cover up the photos. Our fellow passengers are starting to stare." Myka looked around and indeed noticed the horrified eyes of surrounding men and women as they stared at her case files. With her face red, she hastened to put them away.

"I apologize," she told them as she flashed her government badge around. Helena chuckled.

"You have quite a way with people," she said lazily. Myka scowled at her.

"I'm trying to get a headstart on this case. The sooner we find the artifact, the sooner we can stop this. I know its hard for you to take anything seriously, but I thought for a case like this, you could make an exception."

Helena's eyes flashed with hurt, and Myka immediately felt guilty. "Don't believe that you are the only one affected by those images, Agent Bering." she said stiffly as Myka winced at her formal title. "I can assure you that I want to do everything in my power to end this."

Myka sighed. "I'm really sorry Helena," she said genuinely. She was indeed very sorry. "It's not you. It's just that those women...what they must have gone through..." she trailed off, uncomfortable. She rarely confided in anyone, and she never thought of Helena as a confidant.

Helena hesitated for a second, but then took Myka's hand. "Don't worry, I understand," she said comfortingly. "It's hard to get pictures like that out of your mind. But let's just do our jobs as fabulously as we always do. Well, I'm fabulous, at least." Myka laughed, for once enjoying Helena's cockiness. She gripped her hand tighter, finding unexpected comfort there.

_She's pretty insufferable sometimes, but she's really not that bad. _Myka took a bite of her sandwich, and both women fell asleep, still holding hands.


	4. Chapter 4

"So those are the FBI guys?" asked Claudia as they surreptitiously glanced at 6 federal agents who had just entered the precinct. "They don't look like the normal douchebag boneheads."

"Yeah," agreed Pete. "And the women are smokin' hot! Totally my type."

Myka glanced at the brunette and blonde in the group. "How can they both be your type? They look nothing alike!"

"I think by his type, he means they both have vaginas." snickered Claudia as she typed away furiously at her computer.

"Well I for one agree with Pete," said Helena, peering at the women. "They are both extremely beautiful and fit, and that man is certainly good-looking." She eyed Morgan appreciatively. "I believe I'll enjoy myself."

Myka rolled her eyes while inwardly choking down her jealousy. As far as she and everyone else was concerned, she generally found Helena's antics irritating and had very little time for her lewd comments. So those moments of inexplicable jealousy when men and women openly admired her beautiful partner or when Helena showed interest in someone else confused and frightened her.

"Well if you guys are done undressing them with your eyes," Myka said acidly. "Then it might be time to actually meet them." As a group they walked towards the FBI team, taking note of their formal attire compared to their jeans and t-shirts. Before Myka could make the introductions however, Helena took over.

"Hallo!" she said warmly as she shook the tall poker-faced man who was clearly the head of the team. "I am Agent Wells, and this here is Agents Bering, Lattimer, and Donovan. I'm sure we'll get along fabulously." she winked at the darker man in the corner who smiled back, amused. The dark-haired woman beside him narrowed her eyes as Myka attempted to choke down her own jealousy.

If Hotch was surprised at her warmth, he didn't show it. "I'm pleased to meet you as well, Agents. I'm SSA Hotchner. These are Agents Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Spencer Reid. And this is our technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

"Penny?"

Garcia looked up in surprise and locked eyes with Claudia. "Claud?"

The two women simultaneously screamed and ran to each other, taking no notice of the flabbergasted agents beside them.

"Where the hell have you been, my little pet?" asked Garcia as she embraced her old friend. "I haven't heard from you in a few years!"

Claudia laughed. "I was off the grid for a bit, but after...erm...some trouble with these guys, I was recruited. So I guess I'm working for Uncle Sam just like the rest of you."

"Umm," said Pete. "How do you guys even know each other?'

"We met online years ago," explained Claudia. "When we finally met in person, Penny basically took me under her wing and taught me everything I needed to know about hacking and computers."

Penelope laughed. "It's not like you didn't teach me a few things yourself! I'll bet at this point you're as good if not better than me. But its ok: I'm still more stylish."

Hotch coughed, bringing the attention back to him. "I think its best if we make our way to the conference room and decide from there what to do."

* * *

"So why are you here?" asked Morgan bluntly, once they were all seated around the large table.

"Yeah, what the hell does the secret service have to do with all this?" asked JJ.

Myka and Pete eyed each other. They had expected such questions, but something told them that their usual bullshit story wouldn't work on this group

"We are technically secret service agents, but...umm...we run a bit separately from the rest of them," stammered Pete. "We are brought in on cases that are...umm"

"Special," finished Myka. "Or important to those high-up the political food chain."

"Yeah," chimed in Claudia. "We are like the elite of the elite and we are brought in on unusual or complex cases."

"Why would this case grab your attention?" asked Hotch, frowning deeply.

Before anyone could answer, Rossi spoke up. "Cut the bullshit, agents. You guys are warehouse agents."

There was a moment of silence as half the room looked shocked and the other half looked confused. Finally Myka spoke up.

"Warehouse agents?" she asked cautiously.

"I've been around for more than 20 years," said Rossi. "You hear a few things. I don't quite know what it is you guys do, but whenever things get weird or, dare I say, supernatural, you guys are called in to clean up the mess. In fact, I think I met one of your agents years ago on a case. Artie something. Good guy, if a bit insane."

The warehouse agents couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Yeah, he's our supervisor," explained Pete. The warehouse agents looked at each other. To have someone already know that much about their job was unprecedented. They might as well tell the truth now, or at least part of it.

"You are correct," said Myka slowly. "We are brought in when things get...weird and unexplainable. We generally look for some sort of...object or artifact...that is causing weird things to happen. We think thats the case here."

Everyone took a minute to digest this.

"So you're saying that there's some crazy magic voodoo going on here?" asked Morgan skeptically. "Come on, that's crazy." Emily nodded in agreement, though she looked at them pensively. Surprisingly, it was Reid who spoke up.

"It actually makes sense," said Reid. "There is a theory that inanimate objects can absorb properties or spirits of people. This gives them some sort of strength that separates them from other objects like it. In fact, this all goes back to Einstonian theories of-"

"Ok, we get it," groaned Morgan. "Objects can be magical."

"And are often the cause of unexplained phenomenea," continued Reid. "But I don't like the word 'magical.' This is actually all based in obscure scientific theory developed-"

"What type of object do you think is causing this?" asked Hotch, effectively silencing Reid. As if on cue, some sort of ping sounded in the air. Claudia pulled out her farmsworth and much to the surprise of the BAU agents, the face of an older, portly man appeared on it.

"How's it going with the FBI?" asked Artie, only seeing Claudia. "What story did you give them?"

"Umm...kind of the truth," said Claudia sheepishly. "And they can all hear you right now."

"WHAT?!" exclaimed Artie, going red. "Do you know how many security rules you have broken? This endangers every-"

"Hi Artie," said Rossi, barely concealing a grin.

Artie stopped. "I've heard that voice before," he muttered.

"It's David Rossi. We worked on a case of bank robberies years ago," said Rossi. "All it took was some observation and an open mind to at least kind of understand what it is you guys do."

Artie looked a little sullen, but at least he wasn't screaming. "Alright, there's nothing we can do about this now. I guess this actually makes it easier. I'm sure the agents there will explain more fully what exactly our work consists of, but try to follow on the best you can." The BAU agents bristled at his condescending tone.

"I think the artifact we're looking for is some sort of transference artifact, meaning that it enables some sort of body possession by someone else who carries out these actions in another person's body. It's the only thing that would explain the host's memory loss as the outside force essentially owns the body for that amount of time. It's not unlike Wells' time machine." He added rather sourly. Helena looked up interested.

"Wait," said Rossi slowly. "If this artifact is what you say it is, then there has to be someone controlling it."

"Meaning we are still looking for a violent, sadistic unsub who's found the ultimate way to cover his tracks," finished Prentiss.


	5. Chapter 5

"So what are we planning to do now?" asked Helena.

Hotch frowned. "I still have questions about what exactly you guys do, but I'm guessing I won't actually get any answers. But am I right in assuming that you guys are chiefly concerned with retrieving this...artifact?"

The warehouse agents nodded.

"Well, it seems we only have one option," said Hotch. "We are solely concerned with finding the person responsible for these crimes. Presumably, he has the artifact. So we, the BAU, will find the person using our normal methods of profiling. And once we do, you are free to take whatever artifact you are looking for."

"And what?" asked Pete angrily. "Until then we stay out of the way and dick around Westchester for a bit?"

"I fail to see how you can be of help right now," said Hotch, tightlipped.

Before Pete or Myka could respond scathingly, Helena took control.

"Agent Hotchner, or Aaron if I may call you that," she said charmingly. Hotch's lip twitched for a second. "I surely understand your distrust. But I believe even you can see that this case is different from those you've encountered in the past. Surely we can help get these...differences sorted. And with two teams on the case, we will solve it that much faster."

Against his will, Hotch felt his resolve melting. He wasn't sure what it was about this young woman, but she was certainly quite persuasive. Seeing her advantage, Helena gave her most dazzling smile. "Let me assure you that I am quite adept at casework. And my team-" she gestured at the rest of the warehouse agents. "is filled with some of the best investigators I know. They will bring something new and valuable to the table, of that I assure you."

Hotch sighed. "Alright, we can work together. I suppose we might be a bit out of our depth on this one."

"Excellent!" said Helena with a broad grin on her face. "And I for one am quite excited about working with all of you. I must say that the FBI does have a certain sex appeal. Not perhaps like MI6, but I was always partial to Bond–OW!" Helena was cut off by a strong elbow from Myka. She glared at Myka who simply grinned back. _Really, the woman needs to learn to shut up!_

"I suppose each of you can pair with Agents Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid as they conduct field interviews," said Hotch to Pete, Myka, and Claudia.

"I'll be with Wells," said Emily immediately. Better keep this beautiful and flirty woman away from Morgan. To her surprise, Helena looked from Morgan to her and immediately brightened.

"Even better!" she said appreciatively as she shamelessly raked her eyes up and down her body. Morgan chuckled as Emily immediately blushed.

"Agent Bering, you can be with Agent Morgan. Agent Lattimer can accompany Reid."

"Ok, Hotch, but where are we headed?" asked Morgan.

"You and Bering should go to the dump sites," said Hotch. "Rossi and JJ can go to the families of the supposed unsubs. Reid and Lattimer should interview the families of the victims. And Wells and Prentiss, head to the ME's and see if she has any new information. Then go to the last place our latest unsub was seen, and see if you can find out anything about him there. Donovan, you should stay here with Penelope and perhaps be our point of contact with...Mr. Neilson. I imagine we'll need his expertise as this case continues."

As the agents headed out, they ran into a local officer who stared at the women as they walked past. _Is it possible for there to be so many hot chicks in one unit? _He thought to himself. He rather liked the one with the curly brown hair.

"Hiya Agent Bering," he said saddling up next to her.

"Officer Curtis," Myka nodded back.

"Just wondering if you maybe wanted me to come out there with you to the dumpsite. A pretty woman like you shouldn't be out in the woods all alone." His lecherous gaze and smarmy tone was not lost on anyone, including a certain raven-haired warehouse agent who frowned in annoyance. _Did this loser really think he stood a chance with someone like Myka? _

But before she could say anything, Morgan stepped forward and crossed his arms. "She won't be alone. She'll be with me." Curtis took one look at the agent and his bulging biceps and wisely backed off.

"Thanks Morgan, but I can take care of myself," said Myka with a smirk.

"I don't doubt it, but my mama told me to always be a good gentleman, so that was really for her, not for you," he grinned and winked at Myka who couldn't help smiling back. This guy was clearly more than just the muscle.

Helena glanced sideways at her partner for the day. Emily was frowning after the two agents walking away. Helena couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. Emily glared at her in annoyance.

"What?" she asked testily.

"Nothing, darling," said Helena sweetly, but Emily continued to glare at her. "Well, its just that I know Myka rather well, and she doesn't quite go for the brawn and muscle look. I doubt you have to worry about her."

Emily frowned in exasperation. _Had she been that obvious? _"I don't know what you mean Agent Wells-"

"Please, love, call me Helena," she purred. She sized up the FBI agent in front of her. Beautiful and definitely intelligent. But definitely not willing to put up with any bullshit. She also clearly has feelings for Agent Morgan and he probably feels the same. _This could be fun._

Meanwhile Emily rolled her eyes. "_Agent Wells, _we should really get going to the ME." She would get saddled with this aggravating woman who so far had little to show for herself. But her years with the FBI and CIA had made her extremely adept at reading people (she would probably not be alive now if she hadn't gotten these skills). And Emily sensed that underneath the jokes and innuendos was an extremely intelligent and perceptive woman. A woman who would surprise her.


	6. Chapter 6

"Like what you see, darling?" Helena smirked as Emily glanced sideways at her while keeping an eye on the road. They were making the 20 minute drive to ME's lab.

"I'm just surprised you stayed silent for five whole minutes," replied Emily. Helena laughed.

"I have been told by Agent Bering numerous times quite directly that I talk too much and should practice silently observing." It was Emily's turn to laugh.

There was a moment of silence before Helena predictably broke it. "So you are a profiler. What exactly do you do generally?" she asked curiously.

"We are called in on special cases such as serial killings, arsonists, rapists, and even kidnappers. We study the crimes and build a profile of the UnSub, or unknown subject. This profile gives a description of who they are, why they do what they do, possible professions, etc. Then using this profile, we catch the UnSub. Its pretty exciting actually."

"Yeah, it does sounds quite thrilling," said Helena with a grin.

"What about you? How did you become a...warehouse agent?" Emily asked. She admittedly had little knowledge of their job, but from what little she heard, it sounded dangerous, exciting and almost impossible to believe. A life of endless wonder.

"Ah yes, well until about 8 months ago I was quite the thorn in the warehouse's side." Helena laughed a bit. "I don't think Myka or Artie have forgiven me for all my escapades." Seeing that Emily was waiting expectantly, she continued: The artifacts we deal with, while they seem mystical, don't have to be. With a certain knowledge of the hard sciences, maths, and even literature, it is quite possible to understand the basic properties that drive artifacts to do what they do. I gained that knowledge and essentially began...tweaking certain artifacts for my own amusement and even creating a few of my own. Perhaps you heard of my time machine or even my rocket?" She chuckled. "After a year of evading them they caught up to me. I believe Myka and Artie wanted me imprisoned immediately, but their higher ups, the regents, thought for some reason I would be a useful addition to the team. Jokes on them, I suppose."

Emily laughed again, realizing that her impression of this woman was right. She was clearly brilliant. "Why do they still keep you around then?"

"Clearly its my good looks and roguish charm," deadpanned Helena. "Though I must say, the accent does help. To most Americans I'm a female James Bond. Though I suppose to someone with such an extensive knowledge of other languages such as yourself, the accent holds less allure."

"How did you know I spoke other languages?" asked Emily curiously.

Helena shrugged. "The way you say certain words. I've studied linguistics and picked up on certain traits of multilinguists." She smirked again. "You impressed?"

"Actually yeah," admitted Emily. _This woman might have been a good profiler._

_"_I'm surprised someone with your language background joined a domestic agency, though. You seem more suited to something like the CIA."

A shadow passed over Emily's face that didn't go unnoticed by the other agent. Finally she said, "I like where I am." Helena seemed to realize the conversation was over and wisely did not push.

* * *

"Hello Doc," said Helena cheerfully to the rather dour ME who was taking notes. He looked up momentarily before glancing back at his notes.

"I suppose you must be the agents investigating these deaths." He sighed wearily and wiped his brow. "Gotta say, I've never seen anything like this."

Emily nodded. "What can you tell us?"

"These injuries seem to have taken place over a 4 day period. Extensive ante mortem cuts made with some sort of hunting knife on all four limbs, stomach, and back. There are burn marks on the necks of all victims, indicating some sort of electric shock collar. broken ribs, nose, probably from punching."

Emily and Helena took this in. "What about rape?"

"All the victims were raped, brutally I might add, but I believe that happened at the end of the 4 day period right before their death, which occurred by strangulation."

Emily noticed that Helena had gone rather pale and was unusually silent after hearing these details. Emily understood. _I wonder what it says about myself that these things no longer shock me._

"What can you tell us about the killer?"

The Doctor scratched his head, perplexed. "There is no doubt that the men they caught committed these crimes. DNA, fingerprints, all of that matches. But the injuries on these women are essentially identical and I would have sworn that they all had the same killer."

"Well, that was certainly not pleasant," said Helena as they walked out. Emily wasn't fooled by her nonchalant tone.

"Wells, those bodies would affect anyone," said Emily softly. "It's ok to show that you're shaken. Its completely normal." Wells nodded.

"Where to next, love?" she asked as they climbed into the SUV.

"We have to go where Tom Baker was seen last. He volunteers at a local group home."

"A group home?" said Helena in dismay. "Well this day keeps getting better and better."

Emily looked at her sharply. "Not a fan of group homes?"

"Kids who have lost or been abandoned by their entire family and are further victims of a clearly flawed foster care 's not to be a fan of, Agent Prentiss?"

* * *

"Not gonna lie, this sucks." said Pete to Reid after they left the third victim's home. As predicted, the families could offer very little to help the investigation and both men had spent the afternoon comforting distraught relatives. Other than the fact that they were all pale brunettes, the common denominator between all the women appeared to be their predictable schedule. All the victims very rarely delineated from work, the gym and home, making it easy to predict where they would be and when.

"Do you wanna get something to eat?" Pete suddenly spotted a diner out the car window. "Oooh! There!" Reid looked at him in surprise. He had been a bit wary of the burly secret service agent as he reminded Reid of the bullies he had come to face when he was just a kid in high school. Those years were in the past, but he still felt a certain fear and bitterness when confronted with someone clearly a jock.

But Pete was like a young kid, eager about everything around him and willing to believe the best about people. His enthusiasm was infectious, even for someone rather reserved like Reid.

"Aww come on Doc! I know you're like some genius or something, but even geniuses gotta eat!"

Reid chuckled in spite of himself. "I guess you're right. A burger does sound pretty good."

* * *

"Fuck the woods," Myka muttered as she trudged along behind Morgan. She had already been bitten more times than she could count and while Morgan was trying to be considerate, he often ran into branches that snapped back and hit her in the face.

Morgan laughed. "Maybe Curtis was right," he remarked. "you shouldn't be out in the woods alone."

Myka snorted. "Ha. I'd like to see that creep out here."

"Creep? Thats a bit harsh, Bering. You can't blame a guy for hitting on such a beautiful girl." He winked at her.

Myka blushed but laughed a bit. While another guy would have come across as a creep, Morgan was clearly just having fun.

"So whats the deal with your team? You go around catching serial killers?"

"Yeah," Morgan answered as he continued through the woods. "Great gig," he continues sarcastically. Myka looked at him in surprise. "Don't get me wrong. I know that it is what I'm meant to do. I just sometimes wish I didn't need this job. That I could walk away from the depravity. The worst the world has to offer." He paused then, searching for words. Myka was quiet, waiting for him to continue. "But then we catch another killer, and things are better for a while. It makes the job worth it." Morgan seemed to realize that the conversation had taken a serious tone and attempts to lighten it. "But its got its perks." He winked at Myka again. "I get to meet attractive agents with mysterious jobs."

"Give it a rest Morgan," retorted Myka. "Anyone with half a brain can see that you and Prentiss are a thing."

Morgan looked at her in shock. "What are you talking about?"

"She was about to pull her gun and shoot me when we were paired up! And you're like hyper aware of where she is at all times!" Myka turned and studied him. "Are you saying there isn't anything between you guys?"

"Emily and I are good friends and partners. We have each other's backs."

"That wasn't an answer." said Myka with a smirk.

"And I thought I was the profiler," Morgan grumbled as they continued through the forest. After a second of silence, Morgan picked up the conversation again. "Your partner is...interesting."

Myka automatically knew he was talking about HG and not Pete. "Yeah," she said dryly. "Couldn't ask for a better one."

Morgan squinted at her. "You guys don't get along?"

Myka hesitated, but there was something about the handsome FBI agent that made her want to open up. "She wasn't always a warehouse agent. She was a criminal before that. Well, maybe 'criminal' is too harsh a word. But she didnt have a sense of what's right and wrong. She stole artifacts, manipulated them for her own amusement, essentially played with fire for years before we finally caught up with her." Myka clenched her fists in frustration. "I was actually the one who caught her, you know? But I didn't get much satisfaction out of it. Almost immediately after she was caught, she was offered a job with us. I'm still not sure that she didn't let herself be captured because she was bored and knew she would be too valuable to the warehouse to just be put in jail."

Morgan nodded. From what he saw of Agent Wells, he could tell she was a woman who wouldn't be held down and would move from one activity to another with almost reckless abandonment. But while Myka saw it as irresponsibility and immaturity, he saw a carefully constructed facade of arrogance and nonchalance. A facade he himself used to cover fears and insecurities from a less than ideal childhood. _I guess damaged people can see other damaged people from a mile away, _He thought humorlessly. Out loud, he said, "I'm sure she's not all bad."

Myka sighed. "She's not," she admitted. "Yeah, the arrogance, the recklessness is annoying, but she has her moments. And she's absolutely brilliant. A mind like hers doesn't come around too often and thats part of the reason I supported her initiation as a warehouse agent. But she can never be serious and I don't trust her to be invested in this long-term. I'm sure she'll get restless and bored eventually."

The two agents finally made it to the clearing where the bodies were discovered. It was unremarkable except for the caution tape surrounding the area. There was certainly not much to glean from it.

"This is quite a hike to carry a body," remarked Morgan looking around. "I guess that's why the men chosen to do this were so fit. And the way he dumped the bodies, exposed and dumped like trash. He clearly wants to humiliate and degrade these women, even in death."

"You know, we have focused a lot on the victims," said Myka slowly. "They look similar and it is clear this guy has some sort of hatred for dark haired women or maybe a specific woman from his past. But what about the men he uses to torture and rape these women?"

Morgan nodded, seeing what she was getting at. "All were physically fit alpha males with good jobs and strong bodies. His hate isn't just directed at women like our victims. He also has something against these men. Its all part of his victimology." Morgan pulled out his phone and called Hotch.

"Hotch? I think Agent Bering might have stumbled onto something."


End file.
